


Flash in the Pandemic

by Ellebeth



Category: Letterkenny (TV)
Genre: COVID-19, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-typical language, Comedy, Gen, Screenplay/Script Format, Tags Are Hard, Timeframe Deliberately Left Vague
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:00:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27714434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellebeth/pseuds/Ellebeth
Summary: It's a hard choice between teaching some degens a lesson and keeping a safe social distance, but sure as God's got sandals, some causes are worth the risk.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 35





	Flash in the Pandemic

**EXT: The laneway leading up to the farm, day, warm weather.**

SCREEN READS:

There are 5000 people in Letterkenny. 

These are their problems.

### COLD OPEN

**EXT: The barn, day, warm weather.**

_WAYNE stands with his thumbs hooked into the belt loops of his jeans, sleeves of his plaid shirt rolled up. He wears a light blue fabric face mask, and his voice is ever so slightly muffled._

WAYNE: You were socially distancing with your pals the other day.

**EXT: The produce stand, day, warm weather.**

_The HICKS are manning the produce stand in the sunshine. WAYNE and DARYL sit in their usual spots flanking the stand. An avid observer might note that they’re sitting slightly further apart than usual. SQUIRRELLY DAN sits between them, squarely in front of the stand, several feet from either of them. KATY is lounging in her chair, sunbathing, but not in her usual spot, either -- her chair has been moved to the other side of DARYL’s chair, several feet away from him, turned back toward the others._

_WAYNE wears the light blue fabric mask seen in the previous shot. DAN wears a blue bandana tied over the bottom half of his face, like a bandit in an old Western. DARYL wears a light blue disposable non-medical mask. KATY wears a fabric mask in the same shade of yellow as her tank top. All four are holding bottles of Puppers._

_DARYL unhooks his mask from one ear and takes a puff of a cigarette._

WAYNE: Dary, what the fuck are you doin’?

DARYL: ( _mildly confused_ ) I’m...havin’ a dart. Maybe a poor choice, but I reckon we’ve all made that calculation.

WAYNE: Fuck the dart. Learn how to take off your mask like a human being, for fuck’s sake.

KATY: God, Dary, you’ve had months to figure this out. Everybody knows...you pull the mask below your chin, so then you can pop it right back up.

WAYNE: You take it off your ear, then you’ve just got your mask hangin’ there like a fuckin’ jackass who doesn’t know how to wear a mask.

KATY: Or it falls off altogether, and then you look like a jackass who won’t _wear_ a mask. 

DAN: Nots to mentions, it could fall offa the other ear while you’res puttin’ it back on, and then you’re rights back where ya started. 

DARYL: ( _mask still hanging from ear_ ) But if you’re pullin’ your mask down, there’s a strong temptation not to pull it back up over your nose. Then you’re dick-maskin’. Lot easier to make sure your beak’s covered when you have to pull across instead of up.

WAYNE: Well, nobody likes a dick mask. Of all the things you care to see on a person’s face, nobody’s walkin’ around thinking, “You wanna know what I really miss? Lookin’ at people’s schnozzes.”

DAN: Nots to mention it defeats the whole purpose of wearins a mask, which is to say, not breathins on everything in creations.

DARYL: Precisely.

WAYNE: But if you’re that tempted to settle for a dick mask, I reckon there’s no helping you in the first place.

KATY: Get a clue, Dary.

WAYNE: Get a fuckin’ clue.

_WAYNE pulls his mask below his chin with one finger to take a drink of his Puppers, then immediately replaces it. DARYL, who still hasn’t replaced his own mask, looks adequately shamed. He takes a drink of his own beer and puts his mask back on, pulling it carefully across his nose and tucking the strap securely behind his ear._

DARYL: Well, to be fair…

DAN: To be faaaaairrrr…

WAYNE: To be faaaaaairrr…

KATY: To be faaaaairrrrrrr…

_The group joins in a brief, muffled chorus of “to be fair,” their muted voices lifting together before WAYNE lifts a hand to signal its end._

DARYL: I feel pretty safe around you guys. We’ve been socially distancing. Wearing our masks. Fuck, I haven’t seen the inside of the house in months.

KATY: You aren’t missing much.

WAYNE: You wanna know what? Who’s to say we feel safe from _you_ , ya fuckin’ animal?

DARYL: I resemble that remark.

WAYNE: It’s the principle of the thing. We gotta protect ourselves from each other. Social contract, for fuck’s sake. If one person starts gettin’ lax with the mask, then we’ll all start gettin’ lax, and it’ll snowball until half the town’s sick and we’re all fuckin’ shut-ins again, drinking in front of our laptops and mixin’ a batch all day. Fuckin’ animals.

DARYL: Doesn’t sound so bad to me. Who doesn’t wanna feed the ducks more?

KATY: I’ll tell ya who doesn’t. Me. You can only flick the bean so much. The more careful we are now, the sooner I can get back to going to MoDeans, going to the gym, fuck, actually trying on clothes before I buy them.

DAN: ‘Sides, Professor Tricia from my women's studies class says that it's the poors and vulnerables what’s suffers most from the COVIDs, Daryl. Just thinks o’ thems!

DARYL: ( _somewhat mortified, got the point long ago_ ) Points well taken. Christ.

_DARYL lifts his cigarette again, and his other hand goes to his ear as if by instinct. He catches himself and awkwardly pulls his mask beneath his chin to take a drag, craning his neck somewhat to avoid exhaling into his mask. He pulls his mask back up, and the seconds stretch out uncomfortably long as he fumbles to straighten it over his nose. Satisfied, he leans back in his chair, proud of himself for figuring it out._

DARYL: Well, I guess that wasn’t so bad.

**EXT: The barn, day.**

_We return to WAYNE standing alone._

WAYNE: All in all, there’s not much can't be fixed by a little good old-fashioned public shaming.

**The TITLE CARD appears, with the dog in the illustration wearing a mask.**

### ACT ONE

**INT: The gym, day. Tuesday.**

_REILLY and JONESY are doing bench presses on adjacent benches, six feet apart. Both wear high-altitude training masks, through which they can be heard breathing hard and very loudly. REILLY finishes a set and sits up, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead._

REILLY: This sucks, bro.

_JONESY finishes his set, but remains lying down, staring at the ceiling._

JONESY: Sucks so bad, bro.

REILLY: Sucks like a hoover.

JONESY: Sucks like Shoresy’s mom during shark week.

REILLY: Sucks like a pool drain on Labour Day.

JONESY: My life’s going down the drain.

REILLY: Totally going down the drain.

_JONESY sits up, and the two face each other, bookending the screen, with nothing but dead space in between. On the wall behind them are a series of taped-up signs on printer paper: PLEASE STAY 6 FEET APART, MASKS REQUIRED, WIPE DOWN ALL EQUIPMENT AFTER USING._

JONESY: You know what else is going down the drain?

( _beat_ )   
  
BOTH: ( _miserably_ ) Takedowns.

REILLY: All those snipes home from uni. All quarantined.

JONESY: Nothing to break up all that virtual learning.

REILLY: Tragic, really.

JONESY: Can’t have a takedown unless you quarantine before and after.

REILLY: Gotta get tested after every takedown. I don’t even do that when my knob tickles.

JONESY: And Tinder? Fuck Tinder.

REILLY: No more swipey snipeys in this day and age.

JONESY: And even if they were, who wants to take the risk?

REILLY: We’re young. Healthy. In the prime of life.

JONESY: So are the snipes. Can’t be convinced.

REILLY: Tragic, really.

JONESY: No games. No praccy. 

REILLY: Girls’ season got canceled. 

JONESY: Coach tried to go to the beach and got stuck in the States.

REILLY: Tragic, really.

JONESY: ( _hedging_ ) Well...not that part, really.

_REILLY concedes with a nod, and both make a sound of grudging agreement._

REILLY: At least we still have sandos.

JONESY: We’ll always have sandos.

REILLY: We should get some sandos now.

JONESY: Totally need to crush some sandos now.

_The two stand up and begin to walk away, past a table holding a massive can of sanitizing wipes and a gallon jug of hand sanitizer. In front of the cardio machines, JOINT BOY and TYSON materialize seemingly out of nowhere, blocking their paths. Both are wearing intimidating expressions behind black N95s._

JOINT BOY: Hey, chucklefucks. Aren’t you forgetting something?

TYSON: ( _points behind the HOCKEY PLAYERS_ ) Yeah, aren’t you forgetting something?

_The HOCKEY PLAYERS both look back over their shoulders as the camera focuses on the WIPE DOWN ALL EQUIPMENT sign. Both grimace and grab wipes from the can, turning to head back toward the free weights as JOINT BOY and TYSON follow hot on their heels. They pass the two GYM BABES, both masked and on exercise bikes six feet apart, who shake their heads disapprovingly._

GYM BABE #1: Animals.

_Just then, two hulking MEN we haven’t seen before walk past, one wearing a skintight gray shirt and the other wearing a skintight black shirt with a Punisher skull -- no masks. The GYM BABES look momentarily shocked, unsure whether to be appalled or aroused. They shake their heads again._

GYM BABE #2: Fuckin’ animals.

**INT: The basement, day. Tuesday.**

_STEWART stands at his standing desk, browsing on his laptop. ROALD hovers at his side, straining to read over his shoulder. Neither wears a mask, so it is easy to see the annoyance on STEWART’s face._

STEWART: Roald, your hovering is making me anxious. Go sit with Connor. Seeing him play with himself like that is nothing short of pathetic.

_We cut quickly to CONNOR, who sits alone on the couch, glumly playing a Playstation game alone. Cut back to STEWART and ROALD._

STEWART: Where is that laggard Darien, anyway?

ROALD: ( _who hasn’t moved an inch_ ) He went to visit his cousin in the city this weekend. Now his cousin’s got a fever, so he’s quarantining.

_STEWART slams his mouse irritably, making ROALD jump._

STEWART: Outrage! If our group is ever going to manage to avoid those pesky command and control masks, we’ve got to limit our contacts. Home. Basement. Full stop. Nowhere else is worth it. ( _mutters an aside_ ) Not since the dollar store ran us off for loitering in the curbside pickup spots. ( _drums his fingers_ ) Now I’m down a man, and these animals in their homes are buying faster than I can cook.

ROALD: ( _hisses_ ) Animals.

_A ring issues forth from STEWART’S laptop, startling him back to attention. We cut to his screen, where a window opens to reveal a grinning HARD RIGHT JAY._

JAY: Salutations, losers.

_ROALD scurries out of the picture-in-picture in the corner of the screen. STEWART scowls after him before facing the screen._

STEWART: ( _disturbed but cordial_ ) Jay. What an unexpected pleasure. To what do we owe it?

JAY: What, I can’t make a social call to my favorite Letterkenny criminal element?

ROALD: ( _offscreen, in a tiny voice_ ) No.

STEWART: ( _glares in ROALD’s direction_ ) Zip it!

JAY: ( _as if he didn’t hear them_ ) What’s new with you gentlemen?

STEWART: ( _cautiously friendly_ ) Nothing much. Doing a—

JAY: ( _glibly_ ) Just kidding, I don’t give a fuck. ( _STEWART scowls, but JAY ignores him._ ) Listen, we’re doing a Freedom March. From the big city all the way up to Sudbury. ( _getting more fired up as he speaks_ ) We’re protesting this foolish, fascist, fucking absurd mask mandate from the premier, who’s kowtowing to fake news reports about this hoax they call a virus!

STEWART: ( _uncertain but humoring him_ ) Huzzah!

JAY: Our route will take us through Letterkenny this weekend. We’re aware of a few cooler heads in your environs, and we’ve got a couple of guys in town cultivating the soil, so we’re looking forward to a lively event. What we need is some bodies. Can we count on your support?

_Cut to STEWART at his desk. He frowns slightly, glancing over at ROALD and CONNOR, who shake their heads as the camera pans to them._

STEWART: What did you have in mind?

**INT: The gym, day. Tuesday.**

_Music plays in the background — “Damn!” by Youngbloodz. (“If you don’t give a damn, we don’t give a fuck.”)_

_In slow motion, the strange, unmasked MEN get up from the same weight benches the HOCKEY PLAYERS used earlier. Like them, they don’t stop to wipe the machines down._

_We pan to the weight machines, where JOINT BOY stands up swiftly from a chest press machine, his eyes narrowing with a menace you can’t miss in spite of his mask._

_Pan back to the MEN as they walk out of the fitness center. One pauses, looks in JOINT BOY’s direction, holds eye contact — and rips the WIPE DOWN ALL EQUIPMENT AFTER USING sign from the wall. The other follows swiftly with the MASKS REQUIRED sign. For good measure, they crumple the signs and toss them to the floor._

_Pan back to JOINT BOY. He glares after them, shaking his head angrily._

JOINT BOY: ( _muffled behind mask_ ) Fuckin’ degens.

  
  


### ACT TWO

**EXT: MoD3ans, day, warm weather. Wednesday.**

_The parking lot at MoD3ans has a few round tables and folding chairs set up under a large white easy-up canopy, which flaps in the breeze. The HICKS sit at one of the tables, spread around it, masked as in Act One; empty Puppers bottles sit in front of them. A hand-lettered sign is taped to the front door: “Takeout Only.”_

_The door opens, and BONNIE MACMURRAY walks out, wearing a pink mask and expertly balancing a tray of Puppers bottles, which she carries over to the HICKS._

SQUIRRELLY DAN, DARYL and KATY: ( _dreamily, in unison, as Bonnie approaches_ ) Bonnie MacMurray.

DAN: Hards not to miss ‘ers.

KATY: Hard _to_ miss her.

DARYL: Hard, for sure.

  
WAYNE: Take about 20 percent off there, ya fuckin’ animals.

_BONNIE sets down the beers. She beams at WAYNE behind her mask, more or less ignoring the others._

BONNIE: Hi, Wayne.

WAYNE: ( _unfazed_ ) Bonnie. How’re ya now?

BONNIE: ( _still smiling sunnily_ ) Fantastic.

WAYNE: You staying safe out here?

BONNIE: Sure am.

WAYNE: Fantastic.

_WAYNE turns back to the table. BONNIE flounces away._

WAYNE: You wanna know what I think? I think social distancing is better for society.

DAN: Don’t haves to keep your friends close _or_ your enemies closer.

DARYL: Discourages small talk.

DAN: And you knows what they says about small talks.

WAYNE: Small minds make small talk. ( _He lowers his mask and takes a drink of his Puppers._ )

_KATY is scrolling through her phone, frowning deeply behind her mask._

KATY: Un-fucking-believable. ( _When the others glance at her, she looks up to elaborate._ ) There’s some shit going around Facebook about a ( _here she holds up her fingers in air quotes_ ) “Freedom March” event to protest the mask mandate.

DARYL: Freedom? That smells like some primo bullshit to me.

DAN: Professor Tricia says ain’ts no ones free unless everyone’s free. And everyones can’ts be free if it’s not safe for some folks to go outside freely.

DARYL: Sounds a mite pissy, to be sure.

WAYNE: Be that as it may...they want attention. Scroll on past. We’re entirely free to not listen to a goddamn word of it.

KATY: ( _holds up her phone, which we can’t see_ ) At any rate, it’s here. On Saturday.

DARYL: ( _pulling his mask back up, still awkwardly, after taking a drink_ ) Sounds like a donnybrook waiting to happen.

DAN: Sounds to me like ones of those super-spreaders.

DARYL: Spread the love.

DAN: Spread a picnic lunch.

KATY: Start spreadin’ the word.

DARYL: Spread their cheeks and talk out of their asses.

_WAYNE has lowered his mask to take a drink. He pulls it back up with a frown._

WAYNE: Sounds like a lot of bad gas with nowhere to go. Who’s behind this tomfuckery?

KATY: ( _back to looking at her phone_ ) Some group called… ( _squinting_ ) Oh, hell. The Hard Right Freedom Coalition?

WAYNE: ( _beat, recognition dawning_ ) Oh, bother. ( _lowers his mask to take another long drink_ )

_MACMURRAY comes charging up to the table. He’s wearing a white N95 mask, and the edges of a green fabric mask are visible underneath. He stops an arm’s length away from the table._

MACMURRAY: Folks.

WAYNE: MacMurray.

MACMURRAY and WAYNE: ( _simultaneously_ ) How’re-- ( _stopping abruptly_ ) No, you-- ( _stopping again_ ) No--

WAYNE: ( _a flash of impatience_ ) Well, get after it.

MACMURRAY: ( _indistinct; animated, but badly muffled_ )

WAYNE: ( _growing more impatient_ ) Fuck’s sake, man, speak up!

_MACMURRAY takes a few steps back and rips both masks off. When he speaks, it’s still in a garbled mutter through clenched teeth, but clear as a bell by comparison._

MACMURRAY: There! That’s more like it. Folks, we got us a situation.

KATY: I’ll say.

MACMURRAY: We got a couple of degens runnin’ ‘round town with no masks on. 

WAYNE: Glass houses, good buddy.

MACMURRAY: ( _ignoring him_ ) Not the usual cocksuckers, neither. Nobody’s ever seen ‘em before. And they’re mean sonsabitches. Menacin’ anyone who dares to call them out. Tearin’ down signs. Scared the pants off some poor little old lady at the dollar store.

KATY: And? We’ve got neo-Nazis running around, too.

MACMURRAY: They sayin’ anything about some sort of freedom fuckoff this weekend?

KATY: How’d you guess?

_MACMURRAY reaches into his back pocket and produces a crumpled flyer, on which the words FREEDOM MARCH are visible._

DARYL: What’s the only thing worse than degens or neo-Nazis?

ALL: Degens AND neo-Nazis.

MACMURRAY: So I assume you know why I’m here.

WAYNE: Let’s pump the brakes. I’m not about to insert myself into their super-spreader fuckery. Now, normally I’d never say no to roughing up some degens or teaching the Hard Right fuckers a lesson they should’ve learned by grade 1 at the latest. But we’re all making hard choices these days. And it’s fair to assume these fuckers are walking fuckin’ disease vectors.

MACMURRAY: That’s the whole reason we gotta teach ‘em a lesson. People see them walkin’ around without masks on, hear them talkin’ about how masks are some kind of a fuckin’ communist plot and they’ve got nothin’ to be scared ot, they’ll start second-guessin’ themselves, and before you know it, the old folks’ home is opening its own morgue.

WAYNE: ( _beat_ ) Oh, bother.

KATY: Gotta think of the old folks.

MACMURRAY: ( _gaining steam_ ) If we don’t nip this in the bud, we’ll never get rid of ‘em, and we’ll never get rid of this damn virus. I’m tired of this shit. It’s really cramping the missus and my lifestyle.

_DARYL has been steadily drinking his beer this entire time, and now he sniggers as he pulls his mask back up._

DARYL: Lifestyle.

WAYNE: ( _relenting_ ) Let me make some calls.

MACMURRAY: Good man. I’ll clear my Saturday. ( _straps his masks back on, decisively_ )

WAYNE: That’s a Texas-sized 10-4.

_As MACMURRAY stalks away, DARYL giggles again._

DARYL: ( _mostly to himself_ ) Lifestyle.

WAYNE: ( _leans back in his chair with a touch of exasperation_ ) Get this guy a fuckin’ Puppers.

**INT: The basement, day. Friday.**

_STEWART stands at his computer. ROALD pops his head through the door, a nervous look on his face._

ROALD: ( _shrilly_ ) _STRT_! We have a visitor.

STEWART: ( _head snaps up; spits the words out_ ) A visitor? If it’s a buyer, I was explicitly clear that they wait by the side door.

ROALD: ( _shaking head_ ) Not a buyer.

_HARD RIGHT JAY pushes past ROALD._

JAY: You’ve got nothing to hide down here!

_STEWART yelps like he’s just seen a rat and takes a step back. JAY looks around in disgust._

JAY: I mean, this place might be a little more unsavory than it was last time I saw it, but it’s been a rough year, right?

STEWART: ( _clearly rattled_ ) I _told_ you I will _only_ meet on the porch.

JAY: ( _waving arms in annoyance_ ) Gentlemen, it’s time to quit living in fear! You don’t sequester yourselves during flu season. This is just another flu! Stop letting the radical left scare-mongering media dictate your sorry basement-dwelling meat-flogging lives!

_While speaking, JAY has moved closer to STEWART, so that he is now shouting in the latter’s face. STEWART has shrunk back slightly in response, looking rather like he’s reconsidering his life choices._

STEWART: ( _tightly_ ) Is there something specific I can do for you?

JAY: ( _relaxes_ ) Yes. I need some high-quality bombers before tomorrow.

STEWART: Roald, the bombers.

_ROALD scurries past, glancing apprehensively at JAY._   
  


JAY: And I need a...threat level assessment. You may recall that our group ran into some unpleasantness last time.

STEWART: ( _returning to his computer_ ) I imagine that’s unlikely to repeat itself. We’ve got an attendance of over 100 on Facebook. Not even the Hicks can make a dent in that. As it is, they’ve been keeping to themselves more than usual. ( _disdainfully_ ) They have a _pod_ , if you will.

ROALD: ( _returning with a small jar of pills; needy_ ) Aren’t _we_ a pod, Stewart?

_STEWART shushes ROALD loudly, annoyed. ROALD skulks off, visibly insulted._

STEWART: ( _turning back to JAY_ ) And no one’s seen or heard from the Natives in weeks. The scuttlebutt is that they’ve been dealing with quite the outbreak.

JAY: Guess they got the smallpox blankets we sent. 

_JAY laughs uproariously, elbowing STEWART -- who smiles weakly, looking deeply regretful again._

**EXT: Tanis’ cabin, warm weather, early evening. Friday.**

_A close-up on TANIS’ cellphone screen, which shows a video call with a maskless WAYNE sitting on the back porch of the farmhouse. TANIS is visible in the corner, sitting on her own porch with a red fabric mask pulled down under her chin._

TANIS: Those sallies? You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me. They don’t know when to quit.

WAYNE: Agreed. But here we are. MacMurray’s worried they’re gonna sow some discord.

TANIS: Can’t have no discord.

WAYNE: Can’t have no community spread, either. I’ve been careful. But this might call for an exception.

TANIS: Well, I’ve been over it for a couple weeks now, and my guys have been keeping a low profile. And I could use some ass-kicking.

WAYNE: As could we all.

TANIS: ( _smirking_ ) If you’re _really_ sick of social distancing, I wouldn’t say no to some toe-curling, either.

_WAYNE’s mouth twitches the tiniest little bit, in the faintest shadow of a smile._

WAYNE: One thing at a time.

TANIS: Take it under advisement, boo. ( _blows a kiss_ ) 

WAYNE: Can do. But things are well on the Rez?

TANIS: ( _growing more serious_ ) Well, you know...we’ve got a lot of cases. Some of them have been pretty bad. Lotta nervous people over here. I’ve even been calling to check up on my dad. ( _laughs nervously_ ) Who the fuck am I?

WAYNE: Well, we’re all going through it.

TANIS: Can’t argue with that. Text me the deets so I can let the guys know. We’ve got your back.

WAYNE: 10-4.

_A finger with a long red nail taps the red button to end the call. Cut to TANIS sitting on her porch. She stands up and pulls her mask back over her face, then flexes her fingers in front of her and starts walking._

TANIS: ( _muttering to herself_ ) Fuckin’ sallies.

### ACT THREE

**EXT: The hockey arena, day, warm weather. Saturday.**

_About a dozen HARD RIGHT, in their white polos and khakis, have gathered in the parking lot of the hockey arena. We see the two DEGENS from the gym, as well as a couple of the DEGENS FROM UPCOUNTRY -- namely, ALISTAIR and RAT-ASS -- and half a dozen other anonymous people. They number maybe two dozen in all, all white and nearly all men. Several hold signs with messages such as STOP THE FEAR MONGRING, DON’T MASK MY FREEDOM and CHINA FLU IS A HOAX. There is not a mask in sight, and the group is crowded together into an unruly knot._

_A forlorn-looking GLEN stands maybe 20 feet away, wearing a face shield and holding a sign that says LOVE ONE ANOTHER. It is clear he didn’t expect to be alone._

_HARD RIGHT JAY paces back and forth in front of the Freedom March group, holding a megaphone._

JAY: Thanks to all you fine patriots for coming out today! Thanks for making the pledge not to live in fear!

_As JAY continues, indistinct, the HOCKEY PLAYERS drive past in REILLY’s Jeep, stopping at the stoplight outside. We zoom in on them. Neither is wearing a mask, but the top is down. Both turn to look at the rally, horror on their faces._

JONESY: Dude. Are you seeing this, bro?

REILLY: I’m seeing this. Are you seeing this bullshit, bro?

JONESY: No doubt. What the fuck is this shit?

REILLY: I don’t know, but that’s kinda not PC, buddy.

JONESY: It’s kinda not cool, buddy.

REILLY: It’s really not cool, buddy. They’re defiling sacred ground here.

JONESY: They’re pissing on fuckin’ sacred ground.

REILLY: Really not cool, buddy. ( _beat_ ) We gotta put a stop to this.

JONESY: We totally gotta put a stop to this.

_The Jeep makes a sharp turn into the parking lot, and both HOCKEY PLAYERS can be seen fumbling in pockets for their masks._

_Cut back to JAY with his megaphone._

JAY: ...so if you’re ready to march for your life -- march for your right to live your life in defiance of the liberal snowflake junk science peddlers -- march for a free country --

WAYNE: ( _offscreen, shouting_ ) Oh, for fuck’s sake!

_JAY lowers his megaphone, aghast, and every head in the crowd turns._

_Cut to WAYNE, DARYL, MACMURRAY, and JOINT BOY all walking across the parking lot, spread six feet apart and wearing the masks each has been sporting throughout the episode. Each looks more ready than the next to cut a bitch._

_Cut back to the crowd. The lone woman in the crowd drops a sign lettered with HITLER REQUIRED COMPLIANCE TOO! and makes a mad dash for it. ALISTAIR cracks his knuckles. The HARD RIGHT exchange nervous smiles. JAY pushes through the crowd, pasting a somewhat unconvincing look of bravado on his face. The camera begins to cut back and forth between the two groups as they talk._

JAY: Well, if it isn’t the country cuck road show! Here I thought you proud boys might have seen the light and rejected the bullshit you’ve been getting shoved down your throats.

WAYNE: Well, if anyone knows about getting things shoved down their throats, it’s your like.

JAY: Shouldn’t you be home lurking on Zoom?

DARYL: Shouldn’t you be home pulling your horn to Tomi Lahren’s OnlyFans?

WAYNE: Distributing literature all over your mom’s basement.

DARYL: Sniffin’ your own farts. You fuckin’ animal.

JAY: Hey, we’re just here to share some clear-eyed truths and dispel some of the totalitarian bullshit that’s paralyzing you snowflakes. We’re asserting our freedom. And we still have our right to peacefully assemble. 

JOINT BOY: Your right to be a dick ends where my right to exist starts. Bitch.

JAY: You’re more than welcome to come along and listen if you’re willing. But if you’re not, then so much for the tolerant left.

_MACMURRAY can be heard muttering indistinctly through his mask. WAYNE glances over at him wordlessly, and he shuts up, cracking his knuckles._

ALISTAIR: You cunts just gonna stand there and chirp?

TANIS: ( _offscreen_ ) Well, if you’d rather fight, then let’s have a fuckin’ fight.

_Horror dawns on Jay’s face as he whips around. The camera focuses on the other side of the group as TANIS, AXE and SLASH approach, masked and distanced much like the HICKS._

JAY: ( _swallows hard; as brightly as possible_ ) Sacagawea! As I live and breathe!

TANIS: ( _grinning maliciously_ ) Not for long, Sally Gestapo. Your ass has my name tattooed on it. Happy to take care of the other cheek for you.

WAYNE: Save that fuck stick for me.

TANIS: Suit yourself, boo.

_The crowd begins to scatter. All of the remaining townsfolk and two or three of the HARD RIGHT take off running. One of the GYM DEGENS starts to back away as well. The other grabs his arm to keep him there. JAY looks around in disbelief._

JAY: You fuckin’ cowards! Go on, then! The Hard Right’s got no place for pansies!

WAYNE: Well, what the fuck does that make you, big shoots?

_Cut to the HOCKEY PLAYERS striding across the lot, masked up, men on a mission, unnoticed by any of the other players._

REILLY: You ready for a tilly, bro?

JONESY: Let’s have a fuckin’ tilly, buddy.

_The HOCKEY PLAYERS reach the gathered crowd, where JAY can still be indistinctly heard chirping with the HICKS and NATIVES, and REILLY immediately throws a brutal left cross at the nearest HARD RIGHT. From there, the fight erupts, with both groups rushing at one another in slow motion. The soundtrack fades out and is replaced by Queensryche’s “Spreading the Disease.”_

_Snippets are visible:_

_JOINT BOY pulling a GYM DEGEN’s shirt over his head and punching him in the stomach._

_JONESY with a HARD RIGHT in a headlock, wrestling him to the pavement._

_MACMURRAY head-butting a HARD RIGHT._

_TANIS straddling a HARD RIGHT, pummeling him in the face._

_AXE grappling viciously with the other GYM DEGEN, while in the background, SLASH artfully dodges a punch from ALISTAIR._

_DARYL kicking RAT-ASS in the stomach as he cowers on the pavement._

_And finally, WAYNE grabbing JAY by the collar. Tightly controlled rage is visible in WAYNE’s eyes, abject fear in JAY’s. JAY can be seen to mouth “Mommy!”_

_We cut to JAY’s perspective: a close-up of WAYNE’s face as his eyes narrow over his mask -- right before his fist fills the screen -- and we smash-cut to black._

**INT: The basement, day. At the same time.**

_We see STEWART’s computer screen, where a video feed of the fight is playing. Shouting can be heard from the feed._

_Cut to the screen’s perspective of STEWART, staring at the feed in horror. He lifts his phone to his face, slowly, as if paralyzed._

STEWART: Roald? Roald, get the fuck out of there! Roald!

**EXT: The hockey arena, day, warm weather. At the same time.**

_ROALD sits in a car about 10 feet away from the fight, with his window rolled down, holding one phone in front of him as a camera and another to his ear. He looks absolutely terrified._

ROALD: ( _screaming_ ) Stewarrrrrrr--

_Smash-cut to black and silence, cutting ROALD off._

**EXT: The farmhouse, day, warm weather. Several days later.**

_WAYNE sits at one end of the back porch, drinking a Puppers. KATY walks out, looking pale and drawn and holding a mug. She sits at the opposite end of the porch. Neither wears a mask._

WAYNE: How’re ya now?

KATY: Throat’s a little better. Couldn’t smell cow shit if I rolled in it. You?

WAYNE: Not s’bad. ( _But he immediately lets out a horrible and prolonged cough, followed by a miserable sniffle._ ) Could be worse, at any rate.

KATY: Clinic call yet?

WAYNE: No. You?

KATY: Just now. Positive.

WAYNE: Well, that answers that question, I guess.

KATY: Figures that little fascist trouser ferret would be asymp.

WAYNE: Oh, he’s a simp, all right. ( _coughs again_ )

KATY: You talk to anyone else?

WAYNE: Dary’s positive. Feels fine. Natives all tested negative. Joint Boy tested negative, but still feels like shit, so take that as you will. MacMurray’s negative, but he’s pissing and moaning about the test.

KATY: MacMurray’s a piece of shit.

WAYNE: 10-4. ( _coughs, takes a drink of Puppers_ ) Fuckin’ animals.

KATY: Fuckin’ animals. ( _drinks from her mug_ ) How much longer do we have to do this?

_Cut to a wide shot of the porch, showing WAYNE and KATY sitting alone at opposite ends — highlighting their isolation._

WAYNE: ( _takes another drink of Puppers; beat_ ) Does it really fuckin’ matter?

**SMASH CUT TO CREDITS, as Rage Against the Machine’s “How I Could Just Kill a Man” plays.**


End file.
